


Tis A Gift To Be Simple

by YourMajestyJinx



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Past Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychosis, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourMajestyJinx/pseuds/YourMajestyJinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could feel the blood sliding down his arm with every beat of his slowing heart. Thick, greedy arms pulled him deeper into the void of his mind, choking him with their humid, foggy intensity. Pain was left behind. Regret was in the past, Absolution from his sins, from the wrongs he did to others waited on the other side of the gate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Roy stared at the blonde alchemist lounging on his couch, contemplating. There was something different, he knew it. It didn't take a genius to see the drained look in his eyes, the vibrant gold that usually held so much flame was muted and dull. His gait was pulled in, as if he was too scared to take big steps.

But it just sounded wrong. 'Scared' and Fullmetal just didn't go together. He'd look death in the eye and laugh at it.

Well, the old Fullmetal, that is. That was the Fullmetal that would grin too big for his face and sass back at every comment. Now… now it seemed like the sun was dimmed. He didn't smile, he didn't kick in doors, he just… _drifted_. Every mission he'd ask for was dangerous and bloody, and he'd come back with that same dead look.

At first he thought it was because of Alphonse, and their separation, but it seemed more than that now. It was unnerving. He wished for the millionth time that Maes were here to get advice from. He was the fatherly figure after all, wasn't he? He would have seen the issues months prior, and taken immediate action. Instead, Roy sat back and watched as Edward seemed to erode over time all because he didn't know how to approach him. He wanted to bash his head with a brick for putting his subordinate's health after his own attraction.

He felt drawn to the little brat like a magnet. Always had been. He found himself imagining what it would be to wake up next to him, to be able to walk up behind him and put his arms around that little body, and kiss away the nightmares, even if that was not allowed, and morally questionable among his higher-ups.

Sighing again, he pushed any of those thoughts from his mind, turning around and focusing yet again on the blonde on the couch, who was silently reading a leather-bound novel. It had been 8 months since the Elrics restored their bodies, and Alphonse had moved to Resembool in company of his girlfriend, Winry Rockbell. From what he'd heard, Alphonse was studying the ability to merge alchemy and automail, making the procedure faster, and easier to endure.

Edward was currently curled up on the couch he had claimed as his own, his head resting on the armrest while his legs were pulled close to his chest. His golden hair was pulled up into a ponytail with a red tie, long enough to reach his rear. He had stumbled in 2 hours earlier, not saying a word. Roy had waited for him to initiate conversation, but he simply started reading so Roy had almost forgotten he was there.

He wanted to tell himself that this was natural, that it was something they did because they were a couple, wanting to be in each other's presence. He wanted to pretend that instead of shyly sitting down without a word, that Ed had sauntered up to Roy's desk, kissed him on the cheek, then fell to the couch with a smile before getting absorbed in the other world in his pages. He reprimanded himself for his inappropriate thoughts. He had no business fantasizing about him, and it was wrong for him to even think that Ed would want to be tied down to a broken soldier like himself.

He pulled himself back to the paperwork he had neglected to do. The rest of his crew had left early to celebrate Havoc's birthday, while Roy had to stay back to finish the work, seeing he had slacked off the entire day. The clock screamed that it was nearly 8 o' clock at night, and he was just about ready to drop dead. He dropped his pen and huffed after signing the last stupid document.

He swallowed, dreading the argument that was sure to come. "Fullmetal?" he asked softly, as startling Ed was never a good idea. The teen did not speak, only looked up slightly and titled his head to the right; as if to say 'Yeah?' he looked down for a second then spoke again, "You've been sitting here for 2 hours..."

Edward looked at him like he was stupid, tilting his head and drawing his eyebrows together. "You _just_ noticed?"

Roy cringed and tried to keep his demeanor. "No, but I'm wrapping up and I can't leave you here alone," He gathered his paperwork and stood up, walking to the large wooden door. Fullmetal scurried after, his book in his hand. He kept his view down, but Roy could still distinctly see the gaunt, pale lines that make his face. "You should really get some sleep, Fullmetal."

"I'll try." the blonde mumbled, walking down the hallway. Roy stopped, brow furrowing. He didn't fight that at all. Edward only conformed to polite formalities when he was extremely pissed off, something Roy had fallen victim to in the past. However, he didn't seem mad for any reason. He walked faster, catching up to the boy, who was already halfway down the hallway.

"Edwa- Fullmetal." Roy said in a cautionary tone. He could feel blood rush to his face when Edward turned around and looked up, plastering an obviously fake, but still warm, smile. Roy's breath hitched, waiting for him to say anything.

"Yes, Colonel?" The teen said quietly, the smile dropped and he looked up, waiting with a scowl.

"Why did you come to my office today? Did you need something?" Roy inquired, trying to keep his shield up. His hands started shaking, so he shoved them in his pockets.

Ed looked up, contemplating. "I got bored, and went for a walk. I ended up in your office. It was quiet and that couch is comfortable. If you wanted me to leave you coulda' told me." He looked down again, trudging to the door. He pushed it open, while Roy was still standing there in confused shock. Roy was desperately pulling at straws, cursing himself for only now confronting the situation that had seemed to take over his youngest subordinate for the past few months.

Ed coughed, then looked at Roy, who was still about 3 feet back from his held-open door, looking at the ground. The polite sound made Mustang snap out of his shock and look at the figure in the doorway. He walked through and mumbled his thanks, then turned around to look at the teen. The blonde let the door close and walked on, he got to the end of the street with Mustang quietly following behind. When he was about to turn the corner and part ways with the teen, he turned around and grabbed Ed's left wrist. He saw Ed visibly cringe at the contact, so he pulled away as he saw him turning around.

The look in his eyes was something Roy had never seen from him until recently. Despair, hurt, hollow. The child looked like a walking skeleton, and that wasn't even mentioning his weight. Roy felt his heart clench at the fallen angel before him. He wanted to pick him up and carry him home and make sure everything was better. All those thoughts flooded to his mind and more as he finally found his voice. "Uh, have you had dinner yet?" He asked meekly, somewhat hoping he would say no so he could take him somewhere. Ed looked at him, confused, shaking his head lightly. He turned around silently and started to walk on, when Mustang said, "Are you hungry? You could come to my place and I could make something. Or we could go out…" hoping that even someone as thick as Ed would notice his request for a date.

Ed only shook his head again, mumbling something like, "I'm not hungry, thanks." then turned away. Roy watched the alchemist until he got all the way down the street, trudging to his lonely home. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Self-Harm, Blood, and Angst. Read at caution.

Edward slipped into his tiny one room apartment, sneering at the peeling, faded paint, and the chipped grout between tiles on the dingy floor. The room looked so bleak, so empty. Alphonse had decorated it before he left, and his little touches were the only thing that brightened the fading room. A picture of them together, a framed piece of cloth; the serpents cross on red fabric, recovered from his final red coat, and a little metal horse on a shelf, very similar to the small ones they made as a gift to their mother all those years back. Ed gave an empty smile as he placed his shoes and coat by the creaking door. In this little apartment it was just him and the cockroaches.

Saying he didn't miss Al was a lie, but he was happy his younger brother could finally relax where he belonged. The look on his face when he was with Winry was full of love struck bliss. To dare to take that away was nothing short of selfish.

He trudged to his day bed/couch, not even bothering to change into pajamas. He lay staring at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened that day.

He had woken up around 2 in the afternoon, nursing the small hangover he had. He took a shower, and set out for a walk. He grabbed a small lunch at a cafe, quickly walking on to avoid any social contact. He had found himself in Mustang's office, pondering how he had gotten there. He had no business there, and he couldn't help but think he was a nuisance in the other's presence. He huffed, thinking about that weird face that the Colonel had when he said he wasn't hungry. It looked like disappointment. Was the Colonel disappointed in him? It seemed pretty likely. Besides, he wasn't interested in some pity dinner so he could listen to the Bastard lecture him on his health.

Ed knew he had become nothing more than a lump that takes up space. With few pointless missions and nothing to look forward to, he questioned why anyone even bothered. He noticed recently that he wasn't being sent out as often. He figured Mustang finally realized he amounted to nothing, and that it wasn't worth it any more.

Before realizing it, he ran his hand by the bottom of the couch, looking for the handle. He grabbed the cool hard surface, and brought it to the dwindling light from the lamp outside. The sleek blade reflected the moonlight pouring through, and the small designs that were carved in were revealed. He had stolen the knife from the sin Envy years ago, and subconsciously heard his maniacal laugh every time he cut skin with it.

He sighed and brought the knife to his flesh wrist, observing the cuts that already lay there. He had picked up the habit a few months ago, and found the sweet searing pain to be invigorating. Scars covered his body, from his arms, to his thighs, and his hips, just reminders of the failure he was.

He knew that he could end it any time he liked, but he chose his Father's birthday, for the sole reason of having a plan. Everything in his life beforehand had been a mix of unplanned disasters, there was little he could control anymore. At least he knew he could control this.

It was difficult, knowing you were going to die. It was hard looking at the people around you, knowing that they'll never see you again. He had been in near-death situations, where one false move was the end of you, but he had never planned it. He had always found some sort of reason to live, some way to get out, but this time was different.

He knew it was selfish to think that no one would miss him, or realize he was gone. He knew some would. But they'd get over it. He knew that a month later he would be nothing but an example to the military; a reason not to let in 12 year olds because they jumped the cliff as soon as they reached their goal. He'd be a joke, just a hot-tempered kid that never amounted to anything.

He pulled off his hoodie, revealing crimson welts from only a night before that still shone brightly over various scars, healing slowly. He had already set the date for his demise, and was counting down the hours. It was close, very close.

He placed the blade to his tortured skin, grimacing when it started screaming, crying hot, red tears. He pulled the blade diagonally across the flesh, disrupting the healing wounds. He grinned maniacally, pulling it across roughly 3 times, before dropping the knife on the ground next to him, not even bothering to clean the red sin covering the edge.

On the coffee table by the couch sat a bottle of liquor. Ed sighed and grabbed it, unscrewing the cap and throwing it back, not bothering to clean his wrist. Ah… Alcohol. Ed sighed, relishing the burn in the back of his throat as he slowly drank himself to sleep.

He next woke in the middle of the night, slightly aware of the ringing in his head. He glanced at the wrist hanging off the couch. The blood had flowed in rivers down his palm, drying and leaving scarlet trails. He moved his hand, wincing at the sparking pain that shot up his arm. Sighing, he brought himself to his feet. He got to the small bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Pitiful." he said to himself in monotone, glaring at the reflection in the grimy, cracked mirror. The bags under his eyes had only gotten worse, from constant loss of sleep and overworking. His golden hair was greasy and unkempt; spilling out of the braid he forgot to take out. His lips were dry and cracked; giving the appearance he hadn't had water in days. He started the weak shower, pulling a towel out of the closet to his left.

He removed his shirt, refusing to look in the mirror. His eating habits had dwindled, he would rarely eat anything substantial, and when he did, he would throw up till he couldn't breathe. Sometimes on purpose. He could feel the bones extruding from his shoulders, his ribs well-defined, and his collar bones like shelves. He winced and brought the courage to look at himself. His automail suddenly seemed so big and strong on him, too large for his tiny, scarred frame.

"Who would ever want this? Want me?" he thought out loud, still glaring at the skeleton in the looked down, removing the rest of his clothes, then slipping into the scalding shower.

Afterwards he walked back to his couch-bed. He could pull out the mattress, but just didn't have the strength, or reason. He plopped back down, pulling the blanket over his head. It was only Wednesday; he didn't have anything to do until Friday. Of course, Friday was the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting 7 chapters today, but don't expect anything like that in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings, I guess if you're already grossed out, just don't read on.

Thursday went by painfully slow, and Roy knew Fullmetal would procrastinate until the last second to turn in the report on an investigation done earlier in the week on illegal body alterations using alchemy at a tattoo parlor. He silently pleaded that the young alchemist to come in soon, just so he could get up the nerve to find out what happened. His stomach fluttered thinking of the blonde, but regained his composure. Ed would never trust him, and would probably turn away and give a bullshit answer. Why couldn't he just ask Hawkeye to do it? Or call Alphonse? Mentally defeated and unable to find an answer, Roy chalked it up to commander's intuition and picked up his pen to return to the work he didn't want to do.

The day played by slowly, just as mundane as ever. Every time someone knocked or the door opened, Mustang's senses jolted, hoping the blonde-haired alchemist would come through, curling up on the couch like he belonged there. But it didn't happen, more paperwork, another request, a higher up with another mission. Roy was sick of this. He gave in and pulled out his directory, then dialed the Rockbell's phone number. He placed the receiver by his ear and waited patiently.

Riiiing, Riiing, Riiin-

"Rockbell Automail, this is Winry speaking. How may I be of service?"

Mustang smiled and the ever-cheery voice from the other line. It seemed as if that girl was just a bundle of optimistic energy. And wrenches.

"Good afternoon, Winry. This is Colonel Mustang speaking, is Alphonse available?"

There was a troubled pause, causing Roy to wince. Winry's voice came through, quieter than before, "Sure, he's right here."

After a couple seconds, Alphonse's voice came over the line in a hesitant hush. "Hello, Colonel. Is something the matter?"

Mustang sat back in his chair, trying to think of an excuse to call. After a moment, he decided to be blunt. "Sorry to disturb you, but I'm concerned about your brother. I need some information. Can you help me?"

A pause. "It's no problem... what do you need?"

"Well, have you spoken to him lately?"

"No, sir. It's been… 7 months since we've gotten any information from Brother."

Roy paused, raising an eyebrow. "7 months, really?"

The boy on the other end sighed with resignation. "Yeah. We haven't gotten a call, or a letter, anything. Any time I call him it goes to voicemail, and he never responds to my calls. Why? Did he mention me? Is he mad at me?"

The Colonel felt more and more confused, deciding to investigate further. "Why would he be mad, Alphonse?"

Roy could imagine the childish pout that went along with the distressed whine from the other side. "I don't know, I think it's about Winry? I mean, it's been a while, I'd have hoped he wouldn't be jealous or anything, but I can't help but think I did something. I'm so worried... He's okay, right?"

The Colonel was aware of the relationship between the younger Elric and their mechanic, mainly because after Alphonse had gotten his body back, he grabbed Winry and kissed her passionately in front of all of Central Command.

He took Alphonse's concern into consideration. It was true, Edward could be jealous of his younger brother, but he doubted he would stop talking to him about it. "I don't think he's mad. I called because lately he's been very isolated and quiet. You should probably try and call him, in my opinion. Maybe you can figure out what's wrong."

He heard Alphonse sigh. "Okay, sir. I'll call him today."

"Thank you Alphonse. Have a nice day."

Roy hung up, sighing in frustration. He trusted the younger Elric to talk to his brother, but he didn't want to sit back and watch everything happen. Picking up the phone, he decided to try talking to the blonde in question one more time.

He answered after three rings. "Hullo?"

Roy almost snickered at the tired, sluggish tone from his subordinate. It seemed as the Colonel woke him up from his sleep. "Yes, Fullmetal? I need you to come into my office. We have some things to discuss."

The other huffed. "M'na come in tomorrow." He yawned," S'late."

Leaning his cheek on his hand with a smile, Roy sighed. "No, I'm afraid it's urgent."

After a long pause, Roy thought Edward had hung up and went back to sleep. His exasperated voice came through the line. "If it's that important, whatever. Dunno why you didn't say it while I was there yesterday, but m'na be there in... 20 minutes."

The line clicked, leaving Roy to smile in triumph.

Half an hour rolled by, painfully slow, when a soft knock broke through the thick silence. "Come in!" he said, almost giddy with impatience. The door opened softly and golden hair made an appearance. A small smile was on Roy's face, but it quickly faded when he noticed the blonde's stature. It was too slim and angular. The hair just a touch too light, and most of all, they were wearing a navy blue uniform. His eyes trailed up to the figure's face and he sighed. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Just signing out, sir. It's 8 o clock at night. I suggest you wrap up as well." Hawkeye said with a small smile. Her concern outweighing reason, since he hadn't finished his work.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine. Just finishing up. Thanks, Hawkeye." he said, obviously dismissing her. She gave a curt nod, and walked out. It honestly was not that he did not appreciate her worrying, Roy just found himself so distracted that anybody other than Ed was an annoyance. Ha. How ironic.

He slammed his head on his desk, not even noticing the pain. Tunneling his fingers through his hair he groaned. Why couldn't he get Edward out of his head? He was his subordinate, ten years younger than him, and if his assumptions were correct, asexual.

Yet every time he fell asleep at night, that stupid little blonde was there, sitting with him, smiling at him, dancing with him, doing… things with him, and there was seemingly no way to stop it. He'd given in long ago, anyway.

His head was still on his desk when the door creaked again, not even permeating the Colonel's deep thoughts. He jolted up, wide eyed, when he heard the lazy drawl.

"You okay?" the small blonde said, still standing in the doorway. His golden hair was pulled into a messy bun, his parted bangs still hanging to brush his cheeks. His golden eyes were still hollow, but held Roy's gaze with bored defiance. He had his usual tight leather pants, normal platform boots, but a dark blue hoodie thrown over the top, showing he really did just roll out of bed. The alchemist at the door tilted his head, inquiring why he hadn't gotten a response.

Realizing his mental absence, he shook his head and smiled gently. "I'm just fine, Fullmetal. Here," he gestured to the couch, "have a seat." He hoped for the love of anything above that Edward wouldn't get scared and run off. Roy just needed to collect himself and say what he needed to say.

The blonde hesitantly made it to the black leather couch, taking short glances at the Colonel along the way. Roy had focused on what was in front of him. He was trying to come up with topics and ideas to cope with the obvious awkward situation. His head hurt from banging it on the desk, and he looked up to glance at Edward, who was glaring tiredly at the far wall.

Roy got lost in his thoughts, wondering if Alphonse called him after he hung up. His mind wandered for a little bit, and he found himself staring off in to space.

Suddenly the boy sat up, yawning. "Alright, it's been 15 minutes. What did you want to talk to me about?

Roy looked back down, fighting the urge to grimace. He ran out of time to procrastinate.

Obviously getting annoyed, Ed stamped up to lean over Roy's desk, that limp on the left side still obvious. Roy looked up, donning on the mask he wore, then felt himself falter looking at the annoyed quirk of that elegant eyebrow matched with his 'I'm-done-with-your-shit' deadpan expression.

"You said you had to talk to me." He growled, though not very threateningly. "But all you've done is stare around the room with a dumb expression. I can tell it's not really that important, so I'm leaving."

Before Roy could respond, the blonde turned on his heel and began to march out the door.

Dread knotted in his stomach, causing Roy to act on impulse. He stood up quickly, and dashing to the boy in large strides. He grabbed the teen's flesh wrist tightly, pulling his subordinate to turn around and face him.

Edward clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, stifling a pained scream. Jerking his wrist away, he looked up at the Colonel with eyes full of hurt. The purple rings around them seemed amplified by the unnaturally pale gold irises and hollow appearance.

Roy flinched, feeling a trickle on his palm; he pulled his hand to his vision, eyes wide with horror.

A dark red covered half his palm, a trail running down his fingers. So many thoughts went through his mind; he kept looking back at his hand, and at the other alchemist, who was standing in full defense mode.

A small part inside of him knew what was going on, but he didn't want to believe it. He settled for standing still, hoping this was just a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand the chapters are short, after this mass update I'll make them longer (or try to)


	4. Chapter 4

Thoughts reeled through Edwards mind in quick, unconnected bursts. He was found out. Shit. Shit. SHIT. What would Mustang do? Fire him then put him the mental hospital? Laugh in his face, then throw him out? Show off the cuts to his friends, find hilarity in the pitiful existence the blonde lives? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the dark haired alchemist that still stared at him, with an unmistakable look of horror.

He was so close to leaving this world, too. So close to escaping without a clue. Everything was ruined.

He tried to move, but his feet wouldn't let him. He was planted on the ground, unsure of what to do, or say. He kept his fearful eyes closed, but they shot open when arms wrapped around him gently, pulling him forward.

He gasped, suddenly breathing in a scent he could only describe as Roy. He unconsciously leaned into the offered shoulder, but not making any move to hug back. The Colonel's body was shaking slightly, and his ungloved fingers were clenched in the black of the blonde's jacket.

He reluctantly jerked away, trying to keep blush from reaching his face. He failed, however, as he felt the red flow up to his cheeks. He looked down, desperately avoiding Mustang's gaze.

"Edward.." a quiet voice squeaked. Who said that? Surely not the over confident, brave Colonel in front him. The voice sounded like a little kid, a lost, innocent person who had just lost their puppy, or broke his favorite toy. He brought his gaze up, to look at the man in front of him. His dark hair was shading his eyes slightly, shadowing all of his face except a trembling frown.

"I need you to talk to me..." Ed's heart fluttered at the words, desperately keeping eye contact with his commanding officer. "I've known something's been wrong for a while now, but I never expected... "

"Expected what?" Ed spat, trying to regain his demeanor. He didn't want anyone to know his plans, or his actions, especially not Mustang. He needed to get out so he could end it without interference.

"Let me see your wrist. Please." Mustang said, his eyes warming, silently pleading. Ed glared at first, keeping his arms at his sides, but Mustang sighed heavily. "Don't make me order you, Edward. Please."

Reluctantly, Edward lowered his gaze and held out his wrist. The Colonel took it gently, pushing back his sleeve with caution, faintly running his finger over a healing scar. "How long has this been going on?" he said in a grave voice. Ed found no need to tell him.

"Doesn't matter." Ed snarled, keeping his gaze to the floor.

"Please. Just tell me why you did this." He said in a cracking voice. Blood continued to swell from the aggravated wounds. He looked down at the wrist again, choking a sob. "We've been right here. What about your brother? Your friends? Me?! We've been right here, Edward! This whole time, we've been right here!" his voice grew to a shout at the end, surprising Edward considerably. He pulled back his wrist sharply and pulled the jacket over it.

"Edward... Please at least tell me you told Al. You talked to him... please..." Roy begged, his voice even more filled with hurt. There was no sly purr in his voice, no smirk covering his flushed face. It was so out of character, too different. There were no short jokes, no lazy remarks, just a comforting scent and warm, hesitant hands.

Edward shook his head curtly, looking down. He hadn't talked to Al or Winry for several months, in hope of letting them have their well-deserved peace. They were so incredibly happy, Ed didn't want to ruin that.

"What about.. what about us?" Roy squeaked, clearly mentioning himself and his crew. "Hawkeye, Havoc… me? I don't understand… You trust us right?" The last words hit Ed almost physically, hurting like a hammer to the chest.

Trust? Trust was an inconceivable emotion built over time and actions. He had trusted in the past, he had loved in the past, but it only got him and others hurt. No, there was not need to trust when you were alone. No need to feel emotions when you were going to be buried 6 feet under.

Ed could feel the lump in his throat rising, his chest constricting, and emotion and impulse taking over. There was no Fullmetal, no Edward Elric. They were gone, dead. There was a pit in his stomach that felt like it would implode and take the hollow encasement of a soul that was left of him away. If only.

"I don't know what you were thinking, Edward, but I want you to trust me when I say I'll help you. I'll get you out of this, we all will. Please…" Roy's quiet whisper surprised the blonde, and he quickly brought his head up to look at him when Roy gently grabbed his flesh hand . His dark eyes were full of desperation and need, and another emotion so fond and caring that Ed refused to believe it was there.

Ed stared incredulously at his Colonel. He didn't want help. He didn't want to get better. He wanted to fix it on his own, his way.

"Why are you doing this? You're being ridiculous. I know you don't care about me. I'm just another dog, and you don't want to go through the trouble of paperwork cuz' I'm gone." Ed said slowly, trying to sound menacing, but only being able to force out a raspy whisper. The look in Roy's eyes changed suddenly, from despair, to apprehension, to anger.

"Why would you say that? Why the hell would you even say that!" Ed backed up, eyes wide. "I can't believe you can't even see this. I worry about you every day! You've been part of my team since day one, we all care about you! And... and now you're here with cuts on your arms and you're not even telling me why! I try to help you but you brush it off. I care. I care, Edward. And while I'm at it, I'll tell you what. I think I'm in love you. I want to be with you, I want to be by your side. That's why I'm doing this!"

Roy heard the slap before he felt it. His face was whipped to the side, and he raised his hand to caress the red welt on his cheek. He turned back, utterly confused. Sure the Colonel had expected a reaction, but when he looked up, he didn't expect the look of liquid fury in the blonde's eyes.

His stance was rigid and tense. His fists were balled at his side, with his beautiful face drawn into a sneer. Roy hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst, wincing, and shifting away as the blonde seemed to try to speak.

"How... how could you." he seethed, the golden in his eyes was molten, projecting rage and hate fully onto the Colonel with immeasurable intensity.

He looked back at the blonde, startled. How could he? How could he what? Be in love? Care? This wasn't making any sense, and time seemed to slow down, until it was basically stopped.

"That's lower than low, Mustang. Love isn't something you can just toss around to get people to do what you want. I'm not going to pity you just because you told me that. It's pathetic that you would even go there, and expect me to believe you. What a load of bullshit. I thought you were a better person than that." the blonde spat, his eyes never leaving the Colonel. They looked feral, wild... inhuman. Edward scoffed before turning his back, preparing to leave.

Without even thinking, Roy stood up, and grabbed one of Ed's shoulders. He was so utterly confused at the teen's hurtful words. He didn't understand why his blonde couldn't see, didn't even consider, that he wasn't trying to use him for political gain. God, he screwed up. He turned the blonde around swiftly, his head down while he struggled to collect his words.

"You think I was... faking?" he whispered, trying his hardest not to break again. "Edward... Why would yo-" he started, but he was cut off by a frustrated scream.

"Of course you were faking! You don't care about me at all! I'm not an idiot, Mustang. I've dealt with you for too long to know that you're just a womanizing politician scumbag! There's nothing else to it! You'll lose your right to say you have the famous Fullmetal Alchemist on your leash. I don't need your pity. I don't need someone to fake emotion to keep me here. I'm done with you! Now let me GO!" he pulled himself from the Colonel's grip and ran to the tall wooden door. He slid out, slamming the door behind him, leaving a completely shocked Colonel to go over the words in his mind.

Suddenly Roy felt light-headed. His heart pounded as he dropped to his knees, and he remembered how many times he watched in fake-disgust as the manic little blonde came dancing through those doors, ranting and calling Roy "Colonel Bastard". He always seemed to move to his own music, dancing and strutting like there was a song in his head that he couldn't sit still to. Even with two heavy limbs made of metal, he managed to have the grace of a cat no matter where he went. But as of late, it seemed that the music in his head stopped, and he was wandering aimlessly, the beat forgotten.

Roy wanted to hit himself for not seeing the signs sooner. He wanted to take a letter opener to his gut for not acting before it got this bad. He sighed, wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up.

He walked over to his desk, pulling out a drawer and picking up a slender bottle of liquid, one that he only kept in case of emergency. Not even bothering with a glass, he unscrewed the top, and took a swig. The crystiline amber liquid sloshed in the bottle, burning Roy's throat as it went down. He closed his eyes, and sat back into his chair. His mind reeled, and he threw back the mostly full bottle once more.

Every swig was another memory. A broken 10 year old in a wheelchair, with seemingly no hope for the future. Drink. A hunched over teen sobbing over a young girl and her dog. Drink. The alchemist laying defeated in his dorm, finding the truth behind truths. Memories knotted in his veins, tying up his mind and making it incapable of action.

He felt pathetic, drinking instead of going after Edward. In his office nontheless. His thoughts raced, and could feel himself going over the edge of intoxication. When the bottle was half empty, he stumbled over to the couch again, and curling up miserably. Drunken thoughts passed his mind, but they all faded into black when he finally let sleep overpower him. The last thing he could see before it turned hazy was the look of infuriated disbelief in the Fullmetal's eyes. Roy exhaled, hoping that for once, Edward would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Edward does not realize how bad he is, and he doesn't realize that everyone can tell how bad he's gotten.


	5. Chapter 5

Getting to work early, like always, Riza Hawkeye pushed open the tall office doors, certain she was the only one there. To her surprise, the lights were still on. 'Stupid Colonel... I knew I should have waited for him to leave. So immature.' she thought, absently tiding the room. She got to the couch, and realized what she hadn't before. Roy was laying down on it, curled up into a tight little ball. His face looked pained, and by the look of his hair, his bitten fingernails, and the rings under his eyes, something bad had happened earlier that forced him to sleep here.

Careful not to disturb his sleep, Hawkeye brought a thick blanket from a cabinet, and draped it around the resting Colonel. He subconsciously cuddled into the warmth, drawing a wistful smile from Hawkeye.

She walked over to his desk, collecting the completed paperwork. Her gaze turned to a half-empty bottle of hard liquor. She furrowed her brow, wondering what the hell could have caused him to drink like that.

She knelt down by the sleeping figure, almost hesitant to wake the Colonel from his intoxicated slumber.

"Colonel. Sir." she gently shook his shoulder, bringing him from his sleep. He opened his eyes slightly, and Riza cringed when she saw the hollow void of color within them.

The Colonel mumbled something slightly, shifting further into the blanket so only the top of his head was showing. Sighing, the Lieutenant shook him again, trying not to get frustrated. Any other time she would have scolded him, but decided against it, instead taking pity her friend. She recognized the mumbling as "Edward, don't leave", and sighed, her heart heavy. 

Edward had been getting worse, and with that, so had Roy. They either didn't seem to realize that they were more depressed, or they thought no one could tell. It was a topic nobody really talked about, in fear, or maybe out of some kind of respect. Riza had been working from the shadows to help them, not that they ever noticed. 

She tried again, shaking a little harder, speaking in an overly sweet tone, "Colonel, it's time to get up now. Go home, you need rest. You don't have any meetings today, and I'll postpone any paperwork." his eyes opened a little more, and he sighed. Riza backed up, while he rolled to his feet. He stumbled, clutching the arm of the couch for support, and Hawkeye gave up. The alcohol hadn't left his system, and he was still, well, drunk. She stepped forward, placing a wary arm on his shoulder. He flinched at the sudden touch, then turned to his lieutenant.

"Sir, I'll drive you home. Please come with me." she said, sadness edging her firm tone. No matter how many times the Colonel was difficult, no matter how many times she threatened to shoot him; he was still a brother to her. They had been together through the worst, and it was the least she could do to look out for him.

They walked slowly to the military car outside, and Hawkeye lead Mustang into the passenger seat. While was awake, the childish stature he had didn't change. Maybe because he was upset, or drunk, or just tired, but he seemed so vulnerable.

After a silent trip to Roy's house, she led him inside, using the keys he shakily gave to her. She smiled at him, hoping he caught the warm gaze. Turning back to the car, she set her mind.

Those two needed help, even if they didn't know it.

She put on a determined smile and made her way to Edward's apartment.

Edward dropped his head against the table for the millionth time. When he stomped home he could only think of how mad he was, but after that dropped off, he fell into the depression he had become so familiar with. He hadn't gotten that mad in a long time, and it was tiring.

Mustang had seen his cuts. Well, more than just seen. The look of horror in his eyes meant he was probably questioning everything else about the young alchemist. He then confessed his 'love' in some stupid attempt to get him to stop. Ugh, Ed didn't even want to think about it.

Of course, he then began to think about it. He had viewed the Colonel as a romantic object in the past, but only briefly on what he knew to be a boyhood crush. In some other universe, he wouldn't mind being with Roy. The thought of waking up next to him, and holding his hand while they watched stupid movies on his couch didn't disgust him. They actually made his mind whirl in ways he knew it shouldn't.

Their relationship was not possible. Roy might think it to be about ranking, gender, or age, but Ed knew what the real reason was. He looked down at his curved knife sitting innocently next to him on the table.

Now that Mustang knew, there was no point in living anymore. A picture of his brother flickered past his vision, but he pushed it back, mentally chanting the mantra he adapted over time. 'He doesn't need me. He's moved on. He doesn't need me...'

And he believed it, too. He and Alphonse were inseparable at one point, but Ed had fulfilled his promise, and now his brother did not have to tag along with his annoying, temperamental, scarred older brother in hopes of being cured.

No, Al did not need someone who woke up screaming from nightmares almost every night. He did not deserve to put up with someone who sobbed into his pillow at least three times a week. He did not need the embarrassment of someone who went into a fucking panic attack anytime he got yelled at.

The groan of the air conditioner starting up barely pierced his clouded thoughts. Tonight was the night. It would end.

Ed shot straight up in his seat when a soft knock came to the door. Usually when anyone came to the door he ignored them, just as he did with his landline phone, unless it was from a military line.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. He became slightly curious, wondering who the last person he would talk to was. It wasn't like he cared, really. 

Dragging himself to his feet, he got to the door within seconds. He sighed, rolling down his jacket sleeves and donning a nonchalant expression.

When the door swung open, he froze. Riza Hawkeye was standing there, military uniform and hair pulled back as usual. Her hands were behind her back and she seemed to be bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her expression was troubled and stern, as it usually was. Ed scoffed, hoping she was not here after talking to the Colonel. 

"I'm not required to come into work until next Monday." he sighed, rolling his eyes. The last person he sees and it's not even important.

"Err, no, Edward. I need to talk to you. May I come in?" she asked, her voice gentle and motherly, a voice for a child. Silently, he nodded and pulled the door open more; walking over to the table and shoving his knife in-between couch cushions. His little apartment was clean enough, so Edward didn't worry about her distaste. She stepped in, removing her boots at the mat.

She eyed the small apartment with distaste, then turned to Edward. She opened her mouth to question, but Edward cut her off, knowing what she was going to say. "I know it's not much, but I live alone, so I don't need much." she nodded, and stepped over to the small table. Edward followed, and he hoped for the love of Ishvalla that she didn't notice the alcoholic stench.

She sighed, then raised her head to look at the alchemist. "What happened last night, Edward?" she asked, her rust colored eyes tight with concern.

Her question caught the boy off guard, and he snapped his head to look at her. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but decided to play it innocent. "Eh, what do you mean?" he tried, giving the woman a lopsided smile.

However, Hawkeye saw right through it. "I found the Colonel passed out, drunk, in his office this morning. When I tried to wake him up, he said your name. Don't give me bullshit. What happened." she bit out, staring down the young alchemist.

Edward felt that squeezing in his chest again, the one telling him to give in. He shook his head, ignoring the feeling and looked at Riza again with a disgusted expression. "Hell if I know. I only went in for a second. He was fine when I saw him." He went back to staring at the table, only looking up when he heard Riza laugh coldly.

"Oh, likely story." she said sarcastically, never taking her eyes off the boy. "You're not a good liar, Ed. You never have been. Roy may be an idiot, but he doesn't do things for no reason. He said your name. You went in there last night, in fact, I saw you going in as I was leaving. Something happened between then and this morning, and I sincerely doubt anyone else with your name sauntered in. What happened?"

Edward frowned, trying to decide what to tell the woman. He contemplated for a second, then tried to briefly explain his situation. "I got there, he grabbed me and started saying nonsense, so I got mad at him. He was probably drunk before I got in there."

Riza did not look convinced. "I was there only a few minutes before you, and he was perfectly fine. What do you mean, nonsense?" She eyed the teen suspiciously. Ed dreaded her words. She knew something he didn't.

"Ehh.. First he kept bugging me, saying something was wrong and that I needed help. He was a freaking mess, I swear. He was crying and hugging me and shit." he paused, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. "Then he started playing my emotions, the scumbag. He was all, 'I love you!' and shit, but you and I both know that's the most absurd lie ever." Edward heard Riza's breath hitch, but he knew he had to continue. "Then I got really mad, and left. I don't think he understands that I'm not some bitch that can be played like a board game. He'll get over himself." he said dismissively, staring at the grooves in the table. He did not have the need to be polite. The second he could get Riza out of there, would be the second he got to work.

A loud slap resonated in the tiny apartment, and Edward stared in shock at the fuming Lieutenant. His hand on his cheek, he cocked his head to the side, too scared to ask why the hell she did that.

She sighed loudly, then spoke in a rushed, angry tone, "Well no wonder he's upset! Goddamnit Edward! I can't believe you would say something like that! Do you not even realize that just maybe he was telling the truth!? He wouldn't use love as a political gain, stupid! He actually loves you! Do you understand the balls it took to confess something like that?! I can't believe this!" She huffed and stood up, her lips in a tight line, a parody of a smile. She bowed, muttered a fake apology then rushed out the apartment door before Edward could say anything.

'What... the hell... was that!?' Edward thought, thinking over the conversation. It was ridiculous. All of it. He refused to believe a single word she said, repressing the tiny sliver of hope


	6. Chapter- 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of where shit hits the fan, I guess. This was the hardest chapter to write for me... I guess that's why it's so short? Idk.

After Riza left, Ed traced patterns on his table, saying his mental goodbyes.

Goodbye Alphonse.

Goodbye Winry.

Goodbye Teacher.

Goodbye Roy.

There was nothing he could tell anyone, so he didn't bother writing a note. He staggered around the room, taking it all the dirt, filth, and grime before never seeing again.

"What is death?" he mused, smiling. "One is all, and all is one, of course." he looked out the window. "But what is death? Where do we come from, and where do we go when we die? There is only one way to find out."

His breath fogged up the glass, so he traced patterns in it. "I think the Homunculi were right. We try so hard, but we're nothing. When I die, nothing will become of me. It will all be for... nothing..." Tears welled up in his eyes. "It's so funny. I've played death all my life, I've beaten all the odds thrown my way. You'd think I'd die in some horrible, devastating battle with blood and alchemy and destruction, but nope, here I am. Killing myself. Pathetic, isn't it?" He choked up. "Hmm... I'm so pathetic. Couldn't even save a little girl."

His troubled expression grew into a smile as he picked up his knife.

He would see his Mom again, he would see Nina, Hughes, Winry's parents, Lust, who ended up not being too bad in the end, and even his Father. He had already accepted that he and Hoenheim were alike. Hasty to retreat and never come back. Cowards. Selfish. Useless.

He took a deep breath, sitting on his worn down sofa. Death was a scary thing, it always was. He struggled to keep his breathing even, self-induced adrenaline coursing through him. The world was only him. The only objective was his knife. The only prize was death.

This is it. This is the end. It's over now. It's over.

He took in the view of his disgusting apartment one last time before closing his eyes slowly and guiding the blade down his wrist in the deepest cut he'd ever inflicted on himself.

The searing, near intolerable pain only reminded him he was alive, but at the same time told him he soon wouldn't be. After carving a beautiful line down his now-split veins, he watched, amused by the run of red down his arm, pooling on the cheap tile floor. As the pool grew, he began to feel tired, so tired. Leaning back on the couch, he felt himself tilting over, but had no strength to right himself. So this is death he thought. Quiet, soft, dark.

He could feel the blood sliding down his arm with every beat of his slowing heart. Thick, greedy arms pulled him deeper into the void of his mind, choking him with their humid, foggy intensity. Pain was left behind. Regret was in the past, Absolution from his sins, from the wrongs he did to others waited on the other side of the gate.

Colors swirled over his consciousness, random and beautiful, but terrifying at the same time. Just like life itself, he supposed.

Quietly, he hummed a song, one he hadn't heard for years. He imagined his mother smoothing his hair while he was tucked into his sheets.

Tis a gift to be simple, Tis a gift to be free,

Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

We will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,

To bow and to bend, we will not be ashamed,

To turn, turn, will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right

As he hummed the last strains of the song that put him to bed so many years ago, he found himself slipping into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part-personal experience in finding someone with their wrist slit, and being the person with their wrist slit. It came off really bad, but again, this story is for me, not for entertainment.

Roy burrowed deeper into his large mound of blankets, trying to escape the frigid air of his home. His head hurt like a bitch, but his heart hurt worse.

He hadn't gone after Ed the night before. He had let him go, unable to follow him. The weight on his mind made him choke a sob, and he clawed his sheets to desperately search for- what? What in the world would make this go away? Not pouting in bed like a child, surely.

He knew it was too late. Ed had run off, angry and depressed. Even if he didn't want to fully admit it to himself, he knew that his blonde would be gone. He knew it... but he didn't want to know it. And it was all his fault.

He would just wait until Alphonse came to his door, smashing his face in and demanding why he didn't help his older brother when he had the chance, blaming him for the tradgedy. Blaming him for sending them into the military. Blaming him for their hardships.

It was a weight in his chest that didn't seem to go away. He'd missed his chance to have the ball of fire as his own. He would never be able to wake up next to his smiling face, or argue over who made dinner, or braid his hair in the morning... no. His heart clenched just thinking about it.

Roy internally smirked when he thought back to the beginnings of his affection for the young blonde. There was no outward sexual desire, no blatant arousal at his presence, it was more subtle. Little by little he started to noticed things, like how expressive his eyes were, or how plush his lips were, and even how he always tucked his hair behind his right ear, never his left.

It was months later that he realized he was attached. He found himself wondering what kind of date Edward would want to go on, or if he liked being the big spoon or little. He then stopped, all his thoughts pointing back to those seemingly innocent remarks and thoughts. Ed did that to a person, he thought. You don't realize you're in love with him until he's captured you completely.

A muffled knock at the door came through his mountain of blankets, and he groaned. He crawled his way out of his massive amount of fluffy covering, staggering to out his bedroom to the door, suddenly thankful he was wearing sweatpants and a large t-shirt.

He opened the door slowly, adjusting to the light coming in from the outside world. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood at his doormat, hands behind her back. Her face was blank, giving away no indication of her emotions.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Roy asked cautiously. He opened the door wider, knowing she wanted to come in. She trotted up the steps, and into his house, before swiftly turning around to face him.

"When I tried to wake you up you said Edward's name, so I went and talked to him." she said bluntly, surprsing Roy, as she had only been this straightforward with him before he was her superior. "I talked to him. I just need to talk to you about what happened." She sighed, pulling Roy by the cuff of his shirt to the large table. Sitting down, she slouched over in a very un-Hawkeye like posture. "Do you remember what happened last night?" she asked, looking up at the confused Colonel. He nodded shortly, thinking back to the, er, eventful, encounter. She sighed again, then said "Please explain what happened."

Roy sighed, trying to find a starting place, still getting over his shock. "You've noticed how he's seemed really... down?" She nodded. "I've been trying to ask him about it, but I haven't been able to pin him down long enough to get anywhere." He sighed, bracing himself for his own words. "He was so... defensive. He tried to leave, but I grabbed his wrist. He's been cutting, Riza. He's suicidal. Ed... he wants to die." Tears welled up in his eyes once more. "I can't think about what would happen if he was... gone. Permanently." He choked, "It just... I... I let him go. He ran off, and now I can't do anything... he's…" His voice broke. "Probably dead now..."

"Damn brat. I knew he was hiding something." Riza mumbled, bringing a hand to her face. "Roy, calm down. He's alive, I just went to talk to him. He's alive, but I'm not sure for how much longer. It's not your fault, but you're going to have to help him get out of this if you don't want to lose him." her face was apprehensive, and scared.

Roy mumbled something that resembled "It's too late." then put his head on the table.

"We need to go to his apartment. He's not safe on his own. I should have known what he was doing when his apartment reeked like it did…" she sighed, standing up. Roy followed sluggishly.

"I don't know if I can face him.. He hates me so much, and I made such an idiot of myself..." he muttered, slipping on shoes and following the ever stoic woman out the door. The blonde woman turned around with a look of understanding.

"Colonel, you're such an idiot." She sighed with an amused look. "He doesn't hate you, Roy. He misunderstands your intentions. Just explain to him what you think and hope he'll come through. But this isn't just about what you said, he's in danger. We need to get him out of the situation he's in. I've wondered how healthy it was for him to be living alone, and I guess we found our answer."

Roy nodded, and made their way to the car. They pulled out of the driveway silently, before Hawkeye spoke in an amused whisper, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, I've thought this for a while, but you and Edward would really make the greatest couple. I mean, you already were fighting like you were married, and I know how you feel about him."

"That would be great and all, if we weren't going to pick up his dead body from his apartment." Roy bit, fighting back tears once again.

"He's not dead, Roy. He's not, okay? C'mon. We're here."

Dread filled his gut as he walked to the door of apartment F18. Riza urged him forward, and he made his way to the door, knocking lightly. There was no response, so he knocked again, panic filling him.

"No..." Roy muttered to himself, knocking on the door loudly, knowing already he would get no response. It seemed that his mind knew the consequence of letting him go, but his body would not accept it.

"Just go in." Riza urged, not oblivious to the tremors along her commanding officer's body.

He quietly entered the miniscule apartment, thankful the door was unlocked. The entirety of the room was less than the sizes of Roy's own office, making the Colonel feel cramped and suffocated.

He heard Hawkeye gasp, and he turned around sharply, to look at the couch.

The world stopped.

There was no time or reason to say, 'I told you so.' when looking at Ed. He was curled on his side, paler than a sheet of paper. His left wrist was drawn close to him, covered in blood than flowed onto himself and the couch. His beautiful eyes were closed, angelic lips parted slightly.

Roy fell to his knees in front of the couch, gaping.

He quickly pulled off a glove and put a shaking hand on his subordinates neck. "No... nonono Edward, please. This can't... Fullmetal! Talk to me! That's an order!" his voice cracked at the end, laying his head on the sleeping one's chest.

Riza, came back with gauze and alcohol pads, kneeling down by Roy. Her nimble fingers placed themselves in the hollow of Ed's throat, feeling for a pulse.

She turned to him, her eyes whirling with emotions. "He's alive, Roy. What did I tell you? He's not going to die."

"How can you be so goddamn calm!?" He whispered harshly, not rasing his voice, "He's... he's...shit Ed, talk to me..."

She wrapped his wrist rapidly, applying pressure to get the blood flow to stop. Roy brushed limp hair from closed eyes, tracing the features of Ed's face over and over to keep himself from breaking down.

Within minutes they had left the apartment, Edward 'sleeping' in Roy's arms as they sped down to the hospital. Time was moving quickly, but to Roy, the world was slowed down, and despite the situation, calm. He was drifting through thoughts, the only lifeline he had was the body in his arms.

When they got to the front of the ER, Riza stopped and told Roy to bring him in while she parked. He stood up, clutching the alchemist to him in weak hope that they could save him. He ran to the desk, and the secretary looked up. She looked at Roy, the feral look in his eye, then the blonde, who was unconscious and bleeding. Roy noticed her eyes widened, and she nodded and called to a nurse standing by.

While he knew there were sounds going on around him, his mind blocked them out. All he could hear were his own heartbeats, and an occasional laughter. Ed's laugh. He rarely heard it, and he wasn't sure if he ever would again, but any time he did, he could feel his heart melt. So full of joy and happiness. Only traces of a memory now, permeating his mind in heart-wrenching hallucinations.

A nurse and a doctor came out to where Roy was standing, still frozen with fear that he'd never see his blonde's eyes open again. The nurse shook his shoulder, and he turned his attention to her. She told him to follow her, pushing through a door and down into a white hallway. Curtains sectioned off areas into doors, some with crying children, adults whining in pain, or staring blankly into space. Relatives stood or sat hopelessly near their loved ones.

Edward was placed on a thin white cot, an IV inserted into a vein in his neck. As the nurses examined the cuts, changing out the bandages on his arm, working to stop the blood flow, a doctor, dressed in a white coat and stethoscope came into the room, jovially smiling asking "What have we here?" Roy rounded on him furiously, bringing his hand up to snap his fingers.

"Colonel!" Hawkeye grabbed his hand. She turned to the doctor and explained the situation as concicely as possible. When the doctor turned to examine Edward, Riza grabbed Roy and dragged him out to the waiting area.

"What were you thinking threatening that doctor like that? Not to mention the oxygen tanks. There are No Smoking signs all over. Do you remember why?" Roy just stared, slightly embarassed to be at the end of this reprimand.

"He had no right to be so happy." He said, resembling a angry, pouting child. "Edward is nearly dead, how's he so happy about it?"

"No sir, he's not happy, he is confident. I'm confident that Edward will be fine. He's always pulled off the impossible in the past, this will be no different." She chided sternly, taking Roy back to sit down, trying to stop him from making a scene.

"Stay here Roy, I'm going to get you some water and something for your headache. Do you want something to eat? It might make you feel better." She continued, fussing over Roy like a mother hen.

He turned to give her a half hearted smile, then curled up in the plush chair, letting visions of his blonde come over his thoughts while sleep pulled him over.

**Author's Note:**

> Life turned to shit so I turned to fanfiction.
> 
> This is kind of my first attempt at a fanfiction, and it's more therapy for me than anything else so please don't be mad when all of my self-hatred is just vomited on the paper. 
> 
> I tried to play up Roy's PTSD/Not-fully-there-sanity to the point that I believe it is? It came off as OOC and I hope if I say that he'll make more sense...
> 
> Please tell me what you think, I'm still improving.


End file.
